You, Me, and House Elf Makes Three
by LetheSara
Summary: Valentine's Day 1993. Lucius plans to whisk his wife off of her feet for the occasion but, as usual, things don't turn out exactly how he'd like them to. That, and for some reason he can't shake the strange feeling that there's someone watching him...


_A/N: Okay, this was obviously written for Valentine's Day. I kind of decided that since I didn't do anything for Christmas, my readers probably deserved something for this occasion. And behold a result! To be completely honest, this is the first piece I've written since school went back for the year, and so I really do need to get my act together somewhat. For that I apologise._

_By now, regular readers should understand my take on Lucius. If not, I'd recommend you read my other stories regarding the characters, particularly "_The Things We Do for Love"_. To fully understand the references in the following three-thousand-and-something words, you really do need to read that one._

_Part of me is telling myself that I sound somewhat snobby in this, but I don't quite know. Reviews would be nice, but after all, they always are._

_No copyright Infringement Intended. I Own Nothing. Nor do I own the songs titles named. All rights belong to their respective owners. I merely play to escape reality, and besides, I think my head might explode if I didn't…Odd thought…_

_Enjoy…_

_Oh, and just in case the dates seem wrong, I calculated that, because of the September-to-June school year, Valentine's Day 1993 would've been during Draco's second year of Hogwarts, a little while before Dobby was freed by Harry Potter. I know it seems weird, but those are the dates..._

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**You, Me, and House-Elf Makes Three**

It was that time of year again. Valentine's Day. The seemingly most romantic twenty-four hours listed on twelve-month calendars all over both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. To the men and women who spent it alone, it had the potential to be severely sorrow inducing, but for those who had someone to share it with, it was absolutely magical.

Lucius Malfoy fell into the latter category.

By nature he wasn't an overly romantic man, he never had been. It was true that he had his moments, and what incredible moments they were, but it was foolish to think that his thoughts were centred on red roses and expensive wine every minute of every day. His wife, he knew, not only knew this but she accepted it as well. She didn't mind. She wasn't an overly romantic woman. They really did work well together.

But Valentine's Day was the exception. Every year, without fail, he would stop at nothing to sweep her off her feet, and every year he succeeded. Each display was bigger, better, and much more impressive than the year before. Even the birth of their only son Draco nearly thirteen years earlier could do nothing to quench the flames of his annual passion. Pureblood families are renowned for their traditions, and this was one of theirs. One made all the more easier now that Draco had started Hogwarts. But yet Lucius had a problem. After so many years, he was running out of ideas.

He didn't know what to do. He paced back and forth across the carpeted floor of his study as memories of Valentine's Days past flooded through his mind. There had been the year when he had made it rain rose petals; The time he had transformed a pumpkin into a magnificent carriage for the two of them, pulled by a legion of saddled house-elves; The year he had made the Thames flow with melted chocolate; And the Crown Jewels now rested in her possession, with those currently held in the Tower of London being nothing more than a magical imitation.

It was true that he was only limited by his imagination, but his imagination was beginning to become limited. One of his personal favourites had been the year before last when he had organised a choir of house-elves to serenade her with timeless, exceptionally romantic, if somewhat clichéd, muggle love songs. Part of him hated to think that he'd been reduced to such a level that he had employed the aid of non-magical folk, but even he had to admit that when it came to music, the Wizarding World had nothing that equalled the quiet power of a few crooned verses of _"Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You"._

The hands of the clock ticked the hours away, but still he paced. Both his feet and his brain hurt, and yet inspiration continued to elude him. It was with a strange, strangled cry of glee that an idea struck him. Though it wasn't what he had intended, it was better than nothing, and after all, he figured that if he couldn't think of something, he'd ask the one person who could. The one person who was enough like himself to know what he needed. The one person who _was_ part of himself. With a grin he reached for his quill, and began to scratch the words.

_Draco,_

_I understand how much pressure you must be under what with the demands of school, and a blossoming personal life. But I require your opinion on quite rather a delicate matter. As you most likely already know, Valentine's Day is fast approaching and I have a friend, Parkinson, who is at a loss of how to surprise his wife. I told him that I would offer my assistance, yet as it appears, I lack the necessary inspiration at the present time. I thought that since you know the man's daughter, you might be able to provide a suggestion. It is vital that do.  
Hope you are well.  
Father._

He wasn't a fool. He wasn't going to let his own son know that he didn't know how to surprise Narcissa. That was _too_ desperate. He just hoped that Draco would believe the ruse, or was at least understanding enough to play along. He continued to smile to himself as he tied the small roll of parchment to an owl and watched as it flew away into the night to deliver the message. Lucius closed the door behind him as he strode out of his study and through the halls of Malfoy Manor. It would be, he knew, at least late afternoon tomorrow before he received a reply. He sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. It had been a long day, and the ones to follow would only grow longer with the approaching deadline. He couldn't lie, he was truly worried. He brushed a stray strand of hair from his eyes as he forced a smile on his lips and pushed open the door to the living room to join his wife for the rest of the evening.

By the next morning, there were faint bags under his eyes. He hadn't been able to get to sleep, and had spent the entire night tossing and turning under the burden of the dilemma. Breakfast had been a struggle as he tried to stay awake, and he hadn't even bothered to go into the ministry. It was the twelfth of February. That meant he only had two days left. He sighed to himself, something he was doing more and more often.

Lunch came and went, awash with pleasantries and polite questioning. It was nothing out of the ordinary, but he had slightly choked when she mentioned something about one of her friends and the woman's plans to travel to Paris for the fourteenth. Lucius would've inwardly growled if it hadn't been for the familiar owl swooping down over the table, and depositing its message in front of the Malfoy patriarch. That had been quicker than he'd expected. With a feeble explanation and apology, he excused himself and rushed from the room, unrolling the parchment as he went hungrily scanning the words.

_Father,_

_If it was Parkinson we were talking about here, I'd suggest that he hit her over the head with a club, and carry her over his shoulder to the nearest cave. But since it isn't, why don't you just take mother to dinner? I'm sure she'd appreciate it._

_Love Draco_

He frowned. How had he known? But it wasn't a bad idea. Over the years, Lucius had preoccupied himself with grandeur and decadence. What ever happened to a romantic evening together? As much as he didn't want to admit it, Draco was right. All he needed was right in front of his eyes. Her. And in the great scheme of things, she probably didn't need a giant, chocolate flowing river to know that. It was with a grin that he went about planning the evening's affairs.

* * *

It really is amazing how two days can seem like mere moments given the right circumstance. This was a perfect example. After much careful deliberation, Lucius had decided to expand on Draco's suggestion, and make the entire day uniquely his own. From the moment Narcissa woke up and until the moment she went to bed that night, she would be swept off her feet in a haze of romance.

First, was breakfast in bed. Years ago, he had once decided to make it for her himself. But his good intentions went awry, as good intentions so often do. Since then, he had learnt his lesson, and this time, as well as every time since that fateful morning, he had left the house-elves to their duties. She would wake up to a tray of tea and pancakes, roses and French toast. Why was it that the kitchen would behave for everyone but him?

After act one, she would dress for the day and walk into the hall, only to find them floors covered in rose petals. Their path would lead her to the dining room where, in his usual seat, she would only find a card. It had taken him quite a little while to choose it from the display at Diagon Alley, and while it was cheesy and clichéd, it was still sweet. The message on the front cover read:

"_I'd rather let a Dementor kiss me, than have to live even a moment without yours."_

From there, the trail of petals would continue out through the doors and into the garden where he would be waiting. Impeccably dressed and holding a small, grey box he would literally sweep her off her feet and into his arms before presenting her with the delicate diamond necklace he had chosen for the occasion.

The rest of the day would be wasted as together they waited for dinner, where Lucius went all out. No expense was spared in the quest for both perfection and romance. The three course meal would be both delicious and exquisite, while gentle ambient music would be provided by the reprised house-elf chorus.

After that, he had decided to let the evening go where it may though, and he would never openly admit it, he would like that _may_ to be somewhere in the vicinity of the bedroom, or at least a lounge of some sort.

He couldn't help but sigh. _The things we do for love…_

But as it so turned out and as his plans so often do, _almost_ absolutely nothing at all went according to plan.

Breakfast went perfectly; everything was how it was supposed to be. Narcissa was appropriately surprised and whisked off her feet at the same time. But as he had learnt so many times before, it was all downhill from there. The moment she stepped out of the bedroom, all of Lucius' carefully laid plans fell apart. First to go were the rose petals.

It was all too apparent that, for the house-elves, their need to clean swiftly trumped their ability to obey orders. They had collected all of the scattered flowers and had made sure that the hallway was spotless. Lucius would have to punish them later. Consequently, Narcissa never did reach the Valentine's Day card as he had intended, and she didn't walk out to meet him in the garden.

An hour later, an unsettled and slightly abandoned Lucius stumbled back inside the manor only to find his wife completely oblivious to his state and in the living room, reading the Daily Prophet. And as if things couldn't get any worse, he'd misplaced the necklace as well.

He could've throttled someone.

The rest of the day was somewhat salvaged, but it could reverse the damage already done. On top of everything, he couldn't quite shake the strange feeling that someone or something was watching him.

Dinner came and went in a mass of sameness. It was a meal unworthy of such an occasion; and then, after everything, the house-elves' vocal coach had taken ill at the last minute, so he couldn't teach the assembled choir, and so they couldn't hold a note to save their lives. It was awful. Instead of sounding like _"Can't get enough of your love, Babe"_, they sounded like a gathering of dishevelled alley cats screeching in the black of night.

And someone was still watching him.

It was the worst Valentine's Day in only Merlin knows how long. He just wanted to curl up in a ball and forget the whole thing had ever happened, but despite it all, Narcissa was still smiling at him. He didn't know what to say. He was torn between taking his anger out on whimpering house-elves, going to bed and not ever getting up again, or staying and asking his wife why she was grinning. Regardless of whatever his brain was telling him to do, the sensible option to choose; he stayed. After all, no one thinks with their head on Valentine's Day. No-one.

'What's so funny?' They sat together in the living room, a cup of cooling tea beside each of them. He half grumbled the words, and half muttered them under his breath, not quite meeting her eyes. She only laughed at the somewhat cranky expression on his usually, and still, handsome face.

'You are. You're adorable when you sulk, you know that don't you?.'

'Am not.' He still didn't meet her eyes. Narcissa only laughed harder. Lucius' pale cheeks flushed.

'Yes you are. Now, do you want to tell me why you're so miserable all of a sudden? And on Valentine's Day of all days? Usually you're so…so passionate. What's happened?'

'I don't want to talk about it…' He trailed off, somewhat ashamed by his own excuse. She merely raised her eyebrows, and gave him a look that could make even Dumbledore himself nervous. He swallowed and then began to speak. 'It's…It's what didn't happen. I had everything planned. It was all supposed to be perfect, but it wasn't. It's like the time I tried to make you breakfast and all you got was a bowl of cereal because the kitchen hated me. Well this time, the entire universe hates me.'

'The universe doesn't hate you Lucius.'

'Yes it does. All I wanted was to make you happy, and I couldn't even do that.'

There was silence. She didn't know whether to laugh or comfort him. So she did the only thing she could. She did both.

'I am happy Lucius. Just being with you makes me happy. And, through everything, isn't that what Valentine's Day is all about? Just being with the person you love?' She didn't wait for an answer, and instead gave him a small smile, one that meant so much more. 'But you know, if it makes you feel any better, we could maybe retire upstairs and end the day in style.' She slyly winked at him before she grabbed his collar and brought him closer to her so she could crush her lips to his.

He got the hint.

Over the years, Lucius Malfoy had been called a lot of things. Cruel…Ruthless…Heartless…Death Eater…Evil…Blondie... But never, ever had he been labelled as a fool.

After all, he knew what was good for him.

He smirked playfully as he wrapped his arms around his wife and deepened the embrace. Suddenly, their surroundings were far too limiting and they were wearing far too many layers of restrictive clothing.

'Mm…Bedroom…" She groaned in his ear. He nodded vigorously in agreement. But then suddenly, and without warning, he froze. Someone was watching them. He could feel it. The same person, he was willing to bet, who had been watching them all day. Lucius, his arms still wrapped around his wife, pulled his lips from hers, turned his head to the open door, and saw a single pair of wide, saucer-like eyes gazing nervously at the two of them.

'Dobby?' Lucius asked aloud. Somewhat confused, and somewhat annoyed at the same time. 'What on earth are you doing?' As the initial shock subsided, anger took over, and someone, or something, was going to pay for this invasion of privacy.

The brown elf gasped as it was summoned into full view, and shuffled slowly into place. He didn't meet the eyes of either Lucius or Narcissa, rather choosing to stare at his own feet as he semi-hopped nervously from one to the other. He took a deep breath, and thought very carefully about his answer before he even opened his mouth. Then he did.

'Dobby didn't mean Master and Mistress Malfoy and disrespect, sir. Dobby is so very sorry, so very, very sorry, sir. Dobby must go and iron his hands now…' He did his best to avoid their questioning glares as he attempted to side-step his way out of the doorway, and to safety.

'I don't think so Dobby.' Lucius commanded of the elf as he pulled away from Narcissa and half-heartedly readjusted his tousled clothing. 'Why were you spying on us?' From the tone of his voice, the elf knew that no matter how good an answer he gave, he'd still have to iron his hands. Or worse.

'Dobby wasn't spying on Master and Mistress Malfoy, not spying sir, merely observing. You see sir, a few days ago Dobby received an owl from young Master Draco ordering me not to leave Master and Mistress alone together on the fourteen of February, sir.'

'But why would Draco do something like that?' It was Narcissa who spoke this time, breaking the silence with her soft, penetrating voice. The house-elf turned, and addressed her.

'In his letter, Mistress, young Master Draco mentioned something about preventing the chance of him gaining a little brother or sister, Mistress. Dobby was only following orders. And Dobby cannot stop doing his job until the fifteenth of February, Mistress.' This time he didn't try to move, rather stood almost completely still, his wide eyes not moving from them.

Lucius and Narcissa only looked at one another. What in Merlin's name were they going to do? It was Valentine's Day, and all they both wanted was each other, a flurry of bed sheets and the touch of sweaty skin. But they also had an overly protective and paranoid son, and a slightly voyeuristic house-elf. How many other families could honestly say that they've been in the same position? They were willing to bet the chances were slim and the examples few and far between.

Moments had passed and they were silent. Still they just looked at each other. Their faces both blank, though thoughts and endless possibilities flickered across their eyes.

Then she smirked. It was the trademark Malfoy lip curl, and when used in its current context, it could mean only one thing.

Mischief.

She grinned as she wordlessly pulled his lips to hers once more, her hands trailing up and down his body. As she moved her mouth to nibble gently on his left earlobe, she gently breathed three words to her husband that Lucius would never forget. Not so long as he lived.

'_Let him watch.'_

And that's the story of how Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy ended up spending Valentine's Day 1993 holed up together in Malfoy Manor destroying Dobby's innocence.

You see, love truly can make a person do strange, if somewhat inappropriate and scarring, things. It's the unfortunate and obscure curse of Valentine's Day.

Dobby will never, ever, ever be the same…

* * *

_Draco,_

_I would just like to say thank you for your suggestion, it was truly perfect, and proved the foundation of an evening neither your mother nor I will forget in a hurry, or for the rest of our lives. And just think, you might be the very person responsible for the creation of a younger sibling. I can't think of anything that would make you happier.  
Oh, and I should mention that, we've decided - your mother and I, that the next time we see you in person, we must have a little talk…in particular about the facts of life._

_Until then  
Father._

_P.S. Dobby's got something he needs to tell you…Something that involves a great many details…_

They smirked as they watched the owl fly off into the distance. After all, they couldn't let Draco go unpunished. Needless to say, both Lucius and Narcissa could only image the expression on their son's face when he read their latest letter over breakfast in the Great Hall the next morning.

It would've been priceless.

Draco will never, ever, ever be the same…_  
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_A/N: Okay, fun facts: I read somewhere that, supposedly, if you want to make romantic suggestions to a male significant other, whisper them into his left ear, as it connects to the right side of the brain, the side which controls the more creative aspects of our personalities. Interesting huh?_

_And if anyone cares, I really don't like Valentine's Day all that much. To be honest, it means nothing to me beyond the exploitation of "love" for money spent on heart-shaped chocolates and clichéd bouquets of red roses. It might be my feminist streak talking, but I'm over the very thought of it. Seriously, I have a friend, and it's around this time of year that her and her boyfriend become even more sickening than usual. But what about all of you? _

_Don't be shy, tell me what you think. Loved it? Hated it? Comments and reviews are always welcome and much appreciated. Remeber you have a voice. In a world of silence, make your opinions heard._


End file.
